


Public Displays

by Geonn



Category: Original Work
Genre: Artists, Bisexual Male Character, F/M, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Multi, Polyamory, Public Nudity, Romantic Comedy, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-23
Updated: 2012-02-23
Packaged: 2017-10-31 15:20:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 22,821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/345628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Geonn/pseuds/Geonn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A controversial sculpture inspires a gallery owner to confront the artist, which leads her to a new kind of art.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Public Displays

The sculpture was nearly a third the size of the original, but it was nonetheless impressive. It stood just shy of six feet tall, perfectly proportioned. Anyone who had seen Michelangelo's David recognized the pose immediately, but a closer inspection revealed the undeniable differences beyond its height. His left arm was raised to his shoulder, as in the original, but he was holding a cell phone as if he was interrupting a call to address someone who had just walked up to him. His face was less classical, more the sort of guy you'd expect to see walking down the street. He had a strong jaw, sympathetic eyes, and his hair was cut short in a modern style.

If compared side to side, one might note that the smaller sculpture was more muscular and better defined. But with a quick glimpse, there was only one true difference that would catch the eye of a casual observer.

His cock was partially erect. It measured five inches, hanging at half mast and slightly to the left. He was circumcised, and in a certain light people swore that the rounded head glistened. The planes of his abdomen, hips and thighs seemed to draw the eye directly toward it. The sculpture was standing on a platform, his left leg relaxed while the right was tense. Due to the platform's height, the cock was just slightly below eye level making it impossible to ignore.

The movers in their identical blue jumpsuits had brought the sculpture in under a tarp, placing it in the Nash section of the gallery. David Nash, the artist, had sent an email expressing his apologies for not being there when it was delivered but something had come up. Looking at the newly unveiled work, it was easy for Kenna Ross to see why he stayed away.

She stood in front of it, resisting the urge to stare at the obvious focal point. "And what did he say the name was?"

Her assistant Roz was standing a few feet back at the entrance to the section. "He said it was David's Michael Angelo." 

Kenna scoffed. "Of course it is." She reached up and pulled her dark curls into a ponytail, occupying her mind with something other than the current situation. She tied it off and turned to face Roz. "We obviously can't display this."

"Why not?" Roz was still staring at the sculpture. She didn't even try to hide what part of it had gained her attention. "The original David had his cock out, it was just smaller. So unless you're really going to make a case for 'size does matter', I don't see what the problem is."

Kenna rolled her eyes and picked up the sheet again. She draped it over the sculpture, making sure there weren't any unsightly protrusions before she stepped away. "Get David Nash on the phone. I want to set up a meeting so we can talk about this before the opening. Until then, leave it covered up. We'll say it's for a grand unveiling at the official show. God. What a nightmare."

"Your nightmares are different than mine." Roz replaced the 'Exhibition under Construction' sign that blocked the door and followed Kenna back through the gallery. She stopped at the door to Kenna's office, half-turned to go back to her station at the front desk. "I'll call Mr. Nash. What time are you free for the meeting?"

"You know my schedule better than I do. Any time tomorrow should be fine."

"You have the Arctic Hotel buyers coming in at ten tomorrow."

"Right." She sighed. "See? Okay, any time after one should work. I'm sure the buyers won't stick around through lunch."

Roz nodded.

The Nash Exhibition, and she only now realized how accurate that title might be, was scheduled for Saturday. They would have to get someone to come in and take the statue away in the next four days or risk leaving it in place and covered while the gallery was full of wealthy patrons. Patrons who could cause a hell of a ruckus if they happened to get a glimpse of what she was trying to hide.

She sat down behind her desk and slipped off her high heels. The Ross Gallery was no stranger to controversy. Last year they displayed a painting of Jesus as a drag queen. The controversy there had gotten nearly to the point where Kenna wanted to call the police for a protection detail. This couldn't be worse than that. Still, she dreaded any time she had to go on the news to defend some artist's sense of expression.

"I spoke to David Nash." Roz had appeared at the door without Kenna noticing. "He said that tomorrow afternoon at one would be just fine."

"Thanks, Roz."

Roz waved over her shoulder as she walked away. 

Kenna breathed deeply, turned to her laptop, and focused on the work at hand. She wondered why the idea of having the sculpture on display bothered her so much. She didn't have anything against sex, and she greatly enjoyed it when she happened to be in a position to have it. Of course, it had been a while since she had that opportunity. Maybe that was it, the fact that it had been so long since she saw one in the flesh that the marble version was just a painful tease.

For now, she had real work to do. The Nash Exhibition was going to open with or without the new sculpture, and she had to confirm some of her biggest patrons were going to be in attendance. She searched her files for phone numbers and started calling.

#

Kenna brought home David Nash's portfolio and read it on the couch while she had her nightcap. She turned the pages with one hand, using the other to sip her drink. Nash had surprised her when he first showed up at the gallery with this beaten leather-bound book. He preferred sculpture, but occasionally spread out to painting. They had more than enough landscapes and portraits to make the opening a success, but the centerpiece was supposed to be his new sculpture. If she pulled it now, she would be left with a room full of angry people who would walk out and take their disposable income with them. 

Maybe it wouldn't be bad. Maybe the critics would simply tilt their heads and discuss the artist's true intention. They wouldn't go to Nash, of course, so she had to have the answer ready when they came to her. If she couldn't convince Nash to a compromise, then she could at least ask him what he was trying to say with the piece so she could tell anyone who asked.

Her cat crept silently across the back of the couch and dropped down behind her. She reached back and scratched its side. The cat threw its weight against her hand, and Kenna smiled before twisting to pull the cat onto her lap. It had belonged to her neighbor, a jackass who only seemed to refer to it as 'Bastard.' When he moved out, she found the cat left behind in the alley. She drew it in with some canned cat food, let it sleep in her apartment, and unofficially adopted it a few days later. Bastard was the only name she knew for it, but it answered to its new name Bastet just as easily. 

She carried the cat into the kitchen, let it jump onto the table as she passed, and opened a can of cat food. It danced and purred around her feet as she dished it out. She left it to eat as she went to the bathroom to shower and change into her pajamas. She turned out the lights and went into the bedroom, pulling back the blankets and crawling into bed as Bastet leapt onto the foot of the bed. She let the cat drape across her ankles as she settled against the pillow, letting the stress of Nash's sculpture fade as she drifted off.

Her attempts at relaxation failed. Her mind dumped her back in the gallery, the tile floor cold under her bare feet. She looked down and saw that she was still in her pajamas, the satiny tank top and shorts that she had put on before bed. She crossed her arms over her chest against the cold as she started walking. The only light burning was in the Nash Exhibition, so she headed in that direction. 

Kenna didn't notice that the rest of her gallery was empty. She was drawn like a moth to the gentle glow coming from the opposite side of the main floor. She stopped at the threshold to the Nash Exhibition, already knowing what she was going to see.

The sculpture was unveiled, standing right where the movers had left it. Four small spotlights were aimed at oblique angles to better demonstrate the musculature of the man. Kenna walked forward and stepped onto the platform. She leaned forward, turning her head so she could look into the man's face from up close. She lightly touched his cheek, her mind rebelling at the act of touching without gloves, and slid her fingertips along his jaw.

Kenna flattened both hands against the statue's chest, breathing heavily as she traced the careful detail of his nipples. Nash had carved them erect, and she pinched the stone between her fingers as if expecting a flesh reaction. The marble warmed under her touch, as smooth as true skin. She toured his stomach, holding her breath as her hand slid lower, over his abdomen, down. She made herself wait, denying what she'd wanted to touch from the moment she stepped into this room.

She allowed herself to grip the cock like it was a briefcase handle, curling her fingers around its length and closing her eyes as it filled her palm.

Knowing it was a dream granted her freedom, from rules and restrictions and the foolish feeling that would come with trying this for real. She leaned in and kissed the corner of the sculpture's mouth, then his cheek. She started to think of it as a person, a real man who could respond to her touch. And if this was a real man, a nude man with a semi-hard cock standing in front of her, there was only one thing she could do.

She sank to her knees on the platform. She kissed his stomach, ran her tongue over the stone that was feeling more alive with each moment. She stroked his cock, laughed when the thought 'rock-hard' passed through her head, and she realized that it was moving in her hand. It was growing, becoming thicker. From the semi-erect state that she was sure would cause so many problems to a throbbing full erection.

Kenna took it into her mouth, curling her tongue to guide it inside. She braced herself for the taste of stone. When she was six she had put a pebble in her mouth and the soil taste had been branded in her mind. To her pleasant surprise, the statue no longer tasted like stone. It didn't feel like stone, either. It tasted like a man, a taste she had gone far too long without, a taste she now realized she had been craving. She took him fully into her mouth, swept the tip with her tongue, and tightened her lips around the shaft as she pulled back. She kissed the tip and moved her lips down its length, the stone softening as the flesh hardened.

She slid her hands up the inside of his thighs, his posture unchanged. She cupped his balls in her hands and worked them until they became as pliable as his cock. She took him back into her mouth, pressing her thighs together and flexing the muscles to satisfy the ache growing there. If she thought she could spare a hand, she would have reached down, but she didn't want to risk breaking this spell for a little selfish relief.

When she opened her eyes and looked up, she saw that the statue's eyes were alive. His head and turned and he was looking down at her. She knew she should have been afraid, that she should have screamed in terror at the idea of the statue being alive, but she couldn't bring herself to feel fear. She lifted his cock, which was now flesh-tone and shining with her saliva, and bent down to take his balls into her mouth. She stroked him, her fingers brushing over the sensitive tip, and she felt him throb in her hand.

Kenna looked up at him as she stroked, his face frozen in a single expression but his eyes were wide and watching. She brushed her lips teasingly over the head, flicked her tongue against the tip, and closed her eyes as he came. She brushed her lips over him, spreading it around before she used her tongue to guide it into her mouth, swallowing what she could as she continued to look up at him, breathing hard as she squeezed his cock to work out every last drop.

When she stood to kiss him, the dream faded like smoke through an open window. She was aware of the weight of her blanket, the cat still draped across her legs like shackles. She had both hands between her legs, rubbing herself with the heels of her hands. She rocked her hips, pushing her shorts aside to touch herself as she tried to hold on to every detail of the dream. Once she came, she sagged against the mattress.

Bastet crawled up her body with an irritated meow, drawn to the movement and quiet sounds Kenna had been making, and she let the cat lay on her stomach. She stroked the cat's soft black fur, scratching her behind the ears as she tried to return her heart rate to normal. 

Now she had another reason to convince David Nash to take the sculpture away. She was fairly sure she would never be able to look at it again without blushing.

#

Though she wore her usual black skirt and white blouse to work the next day, Kenna couldn't help but remember being there half-naked during her dream. She followed Bennett and Claude, buyers for one of the biggest hotels in Seattle, as they moved from piece to piece. Occasionally Claude would whisper something to Bennett, who nodded enthusiastically and made a notation in his PDA. Kenna's job was to remain as inconspicuous as possible and answer any questions that might come up during their shopping spree. As they meandered across the floor, Kenna found her attention constantly straying toward the entrance to the Nash Exhibition. She wished she had scheduled her meeting with Nash before the morning events so she could stop worrying about it. The stress was going to give her an ulcer.

Bennett left a list with Roz, and Kenna helped her apply inconspicuous red dots to the information cards of the paintings they were going to purchase. 

Roz checked her watch when they were done. "You want an early lunch?"

"Sure." If she finished early, she could go to meet with Nash a little early. The quicker it was dealt with, the better. "Why don't you go down to Hungry Jon's and get us some sandwiches?"

"You got it. Usual?"

"Yeah. Put it on the gallery's card."

Roz scooped up her purse on the way to the door. Kenna stepped behind Roz's desk and held down the buzzer that would unlock the front doors. Once Roz was gone, Kenna did a quick tour of the main gallery's perimeter. She was trying to fool herself, trying to fake that she didn't want to go straight into the Nash Exhibition and see the statue again. She put aside the marker that kept casual browsers from entering the ancillary gallery. She approached the statue, which wasn't directly in front of the entrance as it had been in her dream, and tugged away the sheet.

She didn't expect it to turn and look at her, and she knew she wouldn't even try to touch it without gloves. But she needed to see it in the real world to separate it from her dreams. It was no wonder she had the fantasy; it was eight months since her last lover, and even he had been hardly been memorable. Alone to examine the sculpture without Roz hovering, she stared openly at the plump penis.

She could separate art from arousal. From her first art class in college, sketching the nude model in charcoal, she knew where that line was. Potential controversy aside, this was professional nudity. She should have viewed it from a critical standpoint, and she should never have let her subconscious mind run off to the races like it had. She chewed her bottom lip and stepped closer, raising her chin so she could look up at the statue.

It was just a sculpture now. She had no inclination to drop to her knees and give it head, no urge to see if life could imitate fantasy. She had a pair of gloves in the pocket of her jacket and she took them out, slipping them on as she stepped closer to the pedestal. She touched the statue's lowered right arm, feeling the texture of it. Her dream had been right about its smoothness, but that was to be expected. She'd touched enough marble to know how it would feel. 

Kenna looked down at the penis but didn't touch it. Maybe a part of her was afraid of what would happen, or maybe she was worried about having her fantasy dispelled. Whatever her motives, she stepped back and took off the gloves without violating the sculpture. She left the Nash Exhibition area and went back to the reception area so she could buzz Roz in when she returned with their lunch.

#

David Nash lived in a quiet neighborhood just outside the city. Kenna parked in front of the house and walked up the sloped drive to the front porch. A folded piece of paper was taped above the doorbell with her name written across the front. She took it off, already complaining about the wasted trip as she unfolded it and read the scrawled note within. "I'm in the back. Come on around. Nash."

Kenna frowned and tucked the note into her pocket. There was no fence, so she walked over the grass. The backyard was larger than she expected, and a large part of it was given over to a guest house designed to look like a cottage in the woods. The front door was standing slightly ajar, so Kenna knocked and stepped inside.

At first she felt as if she'd stepped into a department store under construction. But the mannequins were marble sculptures in various stages of completion. Some only had half a face, others tapered out into blank stone just below the torso. Kenna noticed that several of them had similar poses and assumed they were practice runs before David committed himself to the main block.

Two long tables formed an aisle that started just inside the front door. It was littered with cans of paint, carving tools, jars of multicolored water, and more than a dozen small clay figures. David was in the center of the room in front of an easel. He'd turned around when she knocked, but acknowledged her only with a wave of his hand over his shoulder. Kenna stepped over a tangle of drop cloths and waited for him to finish whatever part of the painting needed his undivided attention. A radio was playing somewhere in the room, and she could hear a woman singing over some sort of industrial-classical mix.

David was tall and lean, his bare arms wired with muscle. His dirty blonde hair was cut short, and either hadn't been touched after he woke up or had been expensively styled to achieve that look. He wore a sleeveless white shirt and tan drawstring pants, his feet bare and tangled in the cloth at his feet. He put down his brush and gave Kenna his full attention, offering her the same smile he used for the photo that greeted her customers to his showings.

"Ms. Ross, it's always a pleasure to see you here. Are you finally taking me up on my offer?"

Kenna tried not to blush. The first time David met her, even before she looked at his work, he asked her to model for him. Now it was usually the first thing he asked whenever they were together in the same room.

"Not this time, Mr. Nash. We need to talk about your show on Friday."

"Did you get everything okay? I hated sending the movers without being there, but you know how it is. You have to follow the muse."

"Right. I see you've gone back to painting after your last sculpture."

David looked at the unfinished work as if someone had put it there when he wasn't looking. "Inspiration struck and I knew there was only one medium that would do the subject justice. Also, I didn't have any marble ordered so my hands were a little tied."

"Right." Kenna cleared her throat. "I need to talk to you about the sculpture you sent. Michael Angelo."

"What about it?"

She rolled her eyes. "You know what the problem is, David. This is going to be a public show. You can't have something like... that on display."

"Why not?"

"You can't be serious."

David shrugged and held his hands out, revealing smudges of blue and red on the palms. "What's so shocking about it? The original--"

She sighed. "Right, right. The original has his out, too. Yeah, I know. This is different. It's sensationalism for the sake of controversy. Michelangelo made sure it wasn't the focus of attention by making it small."

"But people were still shocked by it. Leonardo da Vinci tried to have it covered up. What are you suggesting? I drape it with a sheet and call it a toga?"

Kenna nodded. "Well, that would be one solution."

"I can't believe this is coming from you. You've never had a problem with any of my other works. What about Adrift? The nude man coming out of the sea didn't give you any problems."

"That was different."

"How so?"

"We're talking about a sculpture with a half-erect cock at eye level. Why am I even explaining this to you? We might as well put a dildo on a pedestal and then charge admission." David laughed, which irritated Kenna. "It'll be my gallery they picket. The concerned citizens against smut or whatever they're calling themselves. It'll be my business that gets disturbed by your little stand. So if this is just some statement--"

"It is a statement. The nudity and the cell phone are integral to the message of the piece."

Kenna had to think back to remember what phone David was talking about. Then she remembered that Michael Angelo was holding a phone instead of a slingshot. 

"What's the message? Nokia can suck my dick?"

David laughed again. "No. You're about my age, right? Mid-thirties?" Kenna wasn't going to correct him; he'd erred on the side of caution. She nodded. "So you remember. When we were kids, we went out, and our parents wouldn't know where we were for hours at a time. And when our parents left, we wouldn't know where they were unless they happened to stop by a pay phone. But now, everyone is connected to everyone all the time. 

"We post our status on Facebook, we tweet that we're standing on line at the DMV. We're walking around connected to everyone in our lives by the little plastic square in our pockets. We're walking around with our dicks hanging out for everyone to see. There's no privacy anymore because no one seems to want it anymore. They would rather friend someone from high school that they wouldn't cross the street to say hello to. That's the message of my piece, Ms. Ross." He wiped his hands on a towel and threw it down. "I hate explaining my work."

Kenna considered his argument. Finally she nodded. "I'm sorry that you had to, Mr. Nash. The statue can stay as-is."

He looked up and nodded once in gratitude. He seemed exhausted from his speech. "I apologize in advance for any trouble the sculpture gives you. If it gets out of control, I'll do the right thing and take the sculpture back."

"Thank you."

He smiled. "You're welcome."

"I'm going to head back to the gallery. If you want to take a look at the place before we open, I'll probably have some time tomorrow or Friday afternoon."

"Sounds good."

She went to the door, but hesitated with her hand on the knob. She turned to face him, and he was already considering the painting again. He looked at her when she spoke. "It really is a great sculpture, David."

"Thank you, Kenna."

She left the studio and started through the backyard. She was almost to the corner when a man stepped around it. He wore a V-neck sweater and jeans, and Kenna smiled politely and stepped out of his way before she recognized him. His eyes were light green in life, and his lips curled into an easier smile than she had fantasized. But otherwise, she was standing in front of a living, breathing version of Michael Angelo.

"Holy shit."

He blinked and his smile grew wider. "That's... a new one. A-are you okay?"

She shook her head to clear it of all the thoughts struggling for dominance. Finally, she said, "Sorry. I'm sorry. I'm Kenna Ross, from--"

"The Ross Gallery. Oh, yes." He held out his hand. "I'm Alexander Lind."

She shook his hand, smiling sheepishly at her overblown reaction. "Really? I would have guessed Michael."

"David did ask if I would introduce myself as Michael at the opening, but I refused. So what did you think of the sculpture?"

Don't look at his crotch. "It's amazing. It's a beautiful piece of work. I'm afraid I had to ask Mr. Nash to explain it to me, but now I get it."

"I warned him it would cause problems, but he insisted it would be fine. I suppose he knew best after all."

"Or he knew how to manipulate the gallery owner."

He grinned and his eyes sparkled a bit in the sunlight. "There's a chance of that, I suppose. It was nice meeting you, Ms. Ross."

"Kenna. Nice meeting you, too, Alexander."

They parted ways, and Kenna waited until she was almost around the corner before she looked back. Alexander's jeans were tight and, as he stepped up onto the porch of the studio, the denim stretched across his rear end. She smirked and raised an eyebrow before walking back to the car.

At least one part of the statue's anatomy was accurate. 

#

"Do you have Twitter?"

Roz had just buzzed Kenna back into the gallery and it took her a second to respond. "A Twitter account? Yeah. Don't worry. I don't badmouth you on it or anything."

"How about a Facebook?"

"Yeah. What's going on?"

Kenna shook her head. "I don't have either. I used to have a MySpace, but I got rid of that a long time ago. I guess I just didn't realize everyone was moving on to something else."

"Hey, if you managed to get away, more power to you." She reached into her purse and pulled out a small, thin wafer. "I'm tied to this thing day and night."

"Is that your cell phone?"

"My iPhone. Wow, you are out of touch."

Kenna took the phone when Roz offered it to her. She touched the screen and scrolled through some of the options. "Games, internet, date book, Twitter. It does make phone calls too, right?"

"Not as well as you would think."

Kenna nodded toward the Nash Exhibition. "That's what David Nash is trying to say with his statue. We're all so interconnected these days that we might as well be walking around naked. I suppose he's also saying that the phone has become such an important accessory that we need it all the time, even before we get dressed in the morning."

Roz leaned back and considered that. "I didn't think of it that way. What about the, ah..." She held her hands out about five inches apart.

"The rest of the statue was realistic. Why would he compromise there?"

Roz shrugged. "I'm certainly not complaining. But that doesn't mean our patrons will be as appreciative."

"We'll cross that bridge when we get to it." She furrowed her brow as she reached a new page on Roz's phone. "What is LunaKitty?"

"That's my Twitter name."

"Is five hundred followers a lot?"

Roz held out her hand for the phone. "I promise I don't talk bad about you on it. Hand it over."

Kenna pretended to hesitate before she handed it over.

"I save all the bitching for the My_Boss_Sucks account." She turned off the phone and stuck it back in her purse. 

"Do they let you post resumes on the Twitter?" She winked as she walked across the gallery to her office. She looked at the entrance to the Nash Exhibition and saw David Nash's smiling face on the placard. He was a handsome devil, she had to admit. It was kind of hard to stay angry with him face-to-face. She knew she had made the right choice, and that his reasoning was sound. But she still wondered if she would have been as forgiving with a less attractive artist.

Their interactions had always had an underlying flirtation, but that was bound to happen between two reasonably attractive, unattached adults. The first time he'd asked her to pose naked for him, she had clutched the collar of her blouse and said, "There are easier way to see my tits, Mr. Nash."

He had just smiled and said, "But this way I'd get to stare at them for hours at a time."

"You'll have to settle for undressing me with your eyes."

She knew that if anyone else had tried going down that road with her, she would have kicked them out of her office and never displayed any of their work. But David was such a gentleman even when he said the most outrageous things that she could never bring herself to get angry or offended. Plus he felt safe. She knew that he would never cross the line with her, and he seemed to know that her flirting was simply two grown-ups joking.

She had grown very fond of their meetings. He would ask if she wore a certain skirt just for him, and she countered by telling him that if she'd known he was coming she would have put on overalls. That, inevitably, would lead to him revealing a heretofore unknown farmer's-daughter kink, and then they would settle down to business.

In her office, she turned on her laptop and did a quick search online. There seemed to be millions of people on Twitter. She'd always thought that it was populated mostly by celebrities, but apparently there was a vast world of people interacting in one hundred and forty characters or less. She found Roz's account and skimmed down the latest updates.

While she was on the page, it got updated again. "My awesome beautiful talented gracious generous boss just found my twitter. Hi k.r.! going back to work now, promise!" 

Kenna grinned and went to David Nash's website. She searched his portfolio section and clicked on larger images of his paintings. As she'd suspected after seeing him in person, Alexander Lind was the model for quite a few of David's most recent works. Sometimes he had longer, darker hair or wore a beard, but the eyes were unmistakable. Brilliant and green. 

Kenna idly rubbed her chin with one finger as she looked at David Nash's photograph on the website's header. His eyes were just as striking, but they were blue. Almost too pale to be called blue, more of a smoky white. It was no wonder she had caved on the statue with those eyes staring out at her.

She clicked back to the gallery. She skimmed backward, noting the copyrights, and saw that Alexander Lind first seemed to appear about eighteen months ago. She figured the sculpture had to have taken at least that long to complete. David had said he needed to wait for his muse to strike before he started work, so maybe she had just discovered what had prompted the statue. 

She stood and went to the Nash Exhibition. Roz looked up as she left the office, but didn't say anything as Kenna disappeared behind the placard. She ignored the statue this time and focused on the paintings that decorated the walls. Now that she knew to look for him, Alexander Lind was everywhere in the room. In Frame, which featured a pair of hands framing a storm-ravaged ocean, she tried using the sculpture to determine if they were Alexander's hands or if the artist had used his own.

She was distracted from her comparison by the sound of Roz's high heels on the tile floor. She turned as Roz entered the room, glancing toward the sculpture before she focused on Kenna. "The people from the Arctic Hotel are here to pick up the paintings and drop off their check." Her eyes widened happily as she announced the check, and Kenna smiled.

"I'll take care of them."

As she walked out of the gallery, one painting caught her eye. It was a portrait of a woman, her face hidden by a wave of red hair, sitting on the edge of a bed. She wore only a man's dress shirt, the cuffs unbuttoned so they gaped around her slender wrists. The woman was looking toward the window, which was bright with the morning sun. The woman's knees were together, one hand resting on her knee. The rest of the room was completely empty. David had made certain to show enough of the room to get across just how alone the woman was.

Alexander Lind obviously wasn't the muse for this painting. But then who was? And what had happened to her when David moved on to the next inspiration?

"Kenna?"

"Yeah... coming." She ran her fingers through her hair, put on a professional smile, and went to meet the buyers.

#

At the end of the work day, Roz invited Kenna to go out with her and her boyfriend. Kenna declined, but she was grateful that they had the kind of relationship where her employee felt comfortable extending the offer. She went home and fed Bastet, then changed out of her work clothes. She wandered around her apartment in a robe, ate a light dinner, and then ran a bath. 

While the tub filled, she took off her robe and examined her face in the mirror. She pushed her hair back and held it out of her face, raising her chin so the lights over the vanity would soften her cheekbones. Her lips were too thin, her chin too pointed. She had nice eyes, she supposed, and one former boyfriend had said her eyebrows were "expressive," whatever that meant. Her neck was too long, but her hair helped cover that up.

Kenna stepped back and touched her breasts, which were nothing extraordinary. She kept in shape, but that just meant she was thin. She saw absolutely nothing in the mirror that would account for David Nash's constant requests to use her as his model. Her body was certainly nothing compared to Alexander's. For David to use her for his work, it would be a decidedly backwards step in terms of quality.

She went to the tub and used her toe to test the temperature. She sank under the water, sighing as she slid her hands down either side of the tub. She rested her feet on the opposite end, closed her eyes, and let the water lap gently against her body. She loved baths, loved sinking into the water and just floating. Only her hips were touching the bottom, and it let her feel weightless. Her mind drifted to the studio, to David Nash's strong back and the discarded bodies that stood around like a Greek chorus.

She rubbed her right foot with her left and thought about the detail on Michael Angelo. She pictured Alexander in the studio, casually taking off his clothes. She'd seen so many nude models in school that the idea was barely even arousing anymore. Models were little more than mannequins, tools that were to be used for their work. Still there was something appealing about the idea of Alexander and David alone in that small space, one of them naked while the other examined his body.

Kenna closed her eyes. She wondered if there was a certain time of day when the light in the studio was the best. Would Alexander still be half-asleep as he took his place? She pictured him assuming the pose of the sculpture, and let her eyes drift down his body. Her own hands dropped under the water and ran down her body as she imagined it. And then... 

The statue was partially erect. Her lips parted in a silent gasp as she pictured him taking his cock into his hand and stroking it. Would David have stood back and told him when it was just right? Would he have tilted his head to the side, hand on his chin, and then reach out. "Wait. There. That's it."

Would he have taken matters into his own hands?

Kenna teased her nipples as she pictured it. David, fully dressed, kneeling in front of his muse to make sure the erection was just perfectly right. She cupped herself between the legs as she envisioned it. David was in the position she had taken in her dream the night before, and she blushed when she realized that this sculpture had taken over her fantasies so completely. She pictured David's hands, rough from his work, cupping Alexander. Would it have been strictly professional, or would they have taken some pleasure in each other?

Maybe Alexander had insisted that if he had to be naked, David had to strip down as well. Maybe they stood together, stroked together. Kenna moaned at the idea, her movements causing the waves to wash wildly over her body. It felt like a gentle caress, and her breasts breeched the water when she arched her back. The cool air of the bathroom caused her nipples to harden even further. 

She made herself come with dedicated movement of her middle finger, circling her clit with her middle finger while she stroked her labia with her index and ring fingers. Afterward, she let her head sink under the water so she could get her hair wet and she surfaced with a gasp. Maybe she just needed to get laid. Normally she could keep her urges under control, but being confronted with a three dimensional cock was too much of a temptation.

Kenna kept her mind off the statue and whatever feelings it had unearthed as she finished bathing. She washed her hair, soaked for a bit, and then dried herself off. She drained the tub and walked naked to bed, clucking her tongue for Bastet to follow her. She paused at the window, holding the towel in front of herself as she looked out at the building across the street. She could see people in their apartments, but no one seemed to be looking toward her. No one on the street was looking up.

She let the towel drop and stepped closer to the window. She raised her right arm, pretending to pluck an imaginary apple, her other hand resting casually on her hip. Her eyes scanned the other building for signs that anyone would see her. Her heart pounded. A car honked its horn and Kenna, certain it was the equivalent of a wolf whistle, dropped into a crouch and gathered her moist towel like a security blanket. 

She went to the bedroom like she was avoiding sniper fire. Only when she was safely behind the closed door did she drop the towel. She chose a blouse and pants as that night's pajamas, wanting the added comfort of knowing she was basically fully dressed even while asleep. She wasn't an exhibitionist. David would have to deal with her constantly saying no to his offers of modeling. If she couldn't stand naked in front of a window for five minutes, no way would she pose for someone she actually knew. And as for having it displayed in a gallery? 

There was no way in hell.

#

She dressed casually for David's visit; a T-shirt and slacks, with a pair of thin suspenders. After some debate, she left her hair down. Artists didn't like to be reminded they were involved in a business, so the less she dressed up the smoother things would go. Roz had a dentist appointment, so Kenna stayed at the desk and buzzed David in when he arrived. He was wearing a T-shirt under a button-down shirt, pleated slacks, and nice shoes. He had even combed his hair. Kenna smiled when she realized she'd dressed down for him and he'd dressed up for her. 

"Looks like we met in the middle, sartorially speaking."

She laughed. "Better than being overdressed. Your exhibition is this way."

David put his hands in his pockets and scanned the gallery as he followed her. "It's quiet here. I don't like the quiet."

"It's Thursday morning. At our prices, we don't get a lot of window shoppers. Don't worry; it'll be plenty busy tomorrow night."

"And music? There will be music?"

Kenna nodded. "I'll let you take a look at what I'm planning to play if you'd like."

"Thanks."

He sounded nervous, as he always did before an opening. She put a hand on his arm as she guided him toward the gallery where his work was set up. "Don't worry. If no one buys anything, we can just quit the business and sell our bodies on the street."

"I think you might do a little better with that business venture than I would."

"Don't sell yourself short, mister." She put aside the placard and escorted David into the room. "Here you go." She allowed him to enter first and then followed, taking the opportunity to look at the room as he would see it. The smaller sculptures were on pedestals spaced evenly around the room, forming a sort of promenade that ended at the Michael Angelo. The room had two skylights, which cast pale afternoon light onto the sculptures. The paintings were untouched by the natural light. 

David stopped in front of the statue and put his hands in his pockets. Kenna hesitated and then joined him. She held her hands out to indicate the placement of the lights. "Tomorrow night we'll have spotlights focused on the statue to accentuate its lines." She folded her hands behind her back and looked up at it again. "I think it's an amazing piece."

David face her, but he was smiling. "So you don't have a problem with his dick anymore?"

Kenna resisted the urge to clear her throat, but she thought she might be blushing. "No. After you explained it, the sculpture makes a lot of sense to me. If anyone makes a fuss, I'll stand behind it a hundred percent."

David looked at her then. He was smiling. "Thank you for supporting it. That means a lot to me. If you hadn't been convinced, I would have allowed you to remove it."

"Well, you know how it is. The artist is king, and we gallery owners are just your lowly servants."

He furrowed his brow. "You don't really believe that, do you?"

Kenna smiled. "Without you, I just own an empty building in a ritzy part of town that costs more than my apartment. I've gotta keep you happy."

"Does that mean you'll pose for me?"

The invitation caught her off-guard. He rarely waited this long to ask. He usually treated it like 'hello' or 'how are you.' That made the invitation a throwaway comment and therefore easier to ignore. Throwing it out there now, as part of the conversation, she was thrown. She was flustered, but she smiled and shook her head.

"I think you're better off keeping Mr. Lind."

David flashed his bright smile. "He told me that you'd met yesterday. I discussed the situation with him, gave him the option. I said that if he was uncomfortable with the statue's nudity, then I would acquiesce and let you conceal the offending organ."

Kenna was surprised that he had been willing to accede, and even more surprised she hoped Alexander hadn't taken her side. 

"What did he say?"

"He said fuck them if they can't take a little nudity. And then he made an obscene comment about the statue that I won't repeat in mixed company."

Kenna scoffed. "Please. I'm no delicate flower."

David looked at her with an odd smile. "No, I'm sure you're not." After an awkward silence, he gestured at the gallery. "This all looks great, as usual. I had envisioned the sculpture as being more central, but I like it this way. It makes the revelation more of a journey than a confrontation. You did an excellent job, Kenna."

"Thank you, David."

They walked out of the exhibition and David waited while she replaced the placard. She became more businesslike as they walked slowly toward the door. "I've sent out emails to the people who have already RSVP'd. I've told them that there's a discretionary warning on the show, and that children under a certain age shouldn't attend. Are you okay with that?"

"Children under a certain age watch Spongebob Squarepants, so they're really not the sort of art patrons I'm after. The discretionary warning should be fine."

"I'm glad we could make a compromise."

"If I can make my artist, my clients, and my bank account all happy at the same time, then I can't complain. I'll see you tomorrow around six?"

They stopped at Roz's desk. "Six is fine. Will you be serving those delicious little aperitifs or should we have dinner first?"

Kenna's eyes widened. "Um. I have a lot to do tomorrow, so I won't really be able to... get away for dinner. I'm flattered, but I generally don't date artists who show in my gallery. I'm sorry."

"No, I'm sorry. I meant me and my date." He was smiling to make her feel less foolish, but it only made her feel more ridiculous.

"Right. Uh. Yes on the, the finger foods."

"Good. I'll see you tomorrow at six, then."

Kenna buzzed to unlock the door, and David stepped out into the sun. Once she was alone, she called herself a few choice names under her breath and turned to slink back to her office where she could be humiliated in private.

#

In her dreams that night, Kenna found herself nude on the platform. She couldn't move, couldn't drop her arm to cover herself as a parade of people crossed in front of her. She started to tremble when Roz showed up, but soon it was a flood of familiar faces. Her neighbor and the tellers at the bank all stood and cast their eyes up to her bare breasts, and she struggled to flee or find some dark corner to hide in. David was the final face to appear, and he reached up to touch her. As soon as his hand touched her skin, the spell was broken. She fell backwards off the platform and woke before she hit the ground.

She was trembling and drenched in sweat. She pushed back the blankets with a muttered apology to Bastet for disturbing her, went to the closet, and pulled on a long-sleeved T-shirt. She exchanged her shorts for a pair of sweatpants so long that they covered all of her feet except for her toes. She went back to bed, comfortably covered, and slipped back under the covers. She pulled Bastet to her chest to make up for waking her up and kissed the top of the cat's head.

It wouldn't take a psychiatrist to discover the source of her nudity anxiety. Her first year in college, she took an art course that required all the students to pose nude for the rest of the class. When it was Kenna's turn, she was very aware of her Freshman Fifteen and spent the entire class staring at a spot just to the right of the clock so she would know exactly how much time she had left. Afterward she wrapped herself in a robe and thanked the heavens her humiliation was over. She relaxed as she dressed in the little room off to the side of the main class and went about the rest of her day.

Three months later, her naked body appeared on the cover of a self-published book of poems. Someone in her art class had given his girlfriend permission to use something from his sketchbook as the cover of her poetry collection, and she'd chosen the drawing of Kenna without knowing it had used a real person as the model. The author apologized profusely and offered to change the cover for future printings, but she'd already sold close to a hundred copies. She paid Kenna a little of her proceeds as penance, but the damage was already done

Kenna would be studying in the library and glance up to see someone reading the book with their fingers resting casually on the illustration's nude hip. People carried the book through the halls, and she had seen herself peeping up out of book bags and ducked down in the hopes the reader wouldn't recognize her as the model. The worst was when a guy she was seeing admitted he only asked her out because he recognized her from the cover and wanted to see the real thing. She'd kicked him out and didn't date again until the book disappeared from campus.

The lingering result of that first humiliation was that she wore as many clothes in public as possible. She tended to wear tank tops under her blouses. Layers were protection. And now, ten years from college and realizing that Freshman Fifteen was a hell of a lot better than the Thirty Thirty, she restricted her nudity to the bedroom and the bathroom. Making love with a new person involved taking off as few clothes as possible, getting just naked enough to get the job done. If the relationship lasted long enough, she was eventually comfortable enough to be in the all-together with them.

She scratched Bastet's stomach and thought about how rare those instances had become. How long had it been since she felt someone's naked body against hers? There was usually a shirt or a pushed-up nightgown acting as a buffer. She wanted that intimacy, and she wanted to not tremble at the idea of taking off her blouse, but she had no idea how to make that leap. She wasn't getting any younger, and she was never going to get back that teenage body she'd been so embarrassed about. Obviously David saw something he liked. She wondered if he would be able to make even her body look like art.

As she drifted off, she wondered if taking David up on his offer of posing would be the push she needed to finally take that deadly first step.

#

Friday afternoon was busy preparing for the opening. Caterers arrived an hour before the show was scheduled to begin to set up, and she had a pair of electricians wire up the spotlights for the Michael Angelo. Kenna waited until the first guests were due to arrive before she locked the door to her office and changed out of her work clothes. She had chosen a sleeveless crimson dress for the opening, doing her own hair and makeup in an understated style. No one was supposed to be paying attention to her; the art was the focus here and she was just the mistress of ceremonies. 

She allowed Roz to go home to change, waving off any compliments about how good she looked, and did a final circuit of the gallery to make sure the Nash Exhibition was ready to go. She paused in front of the Michael Angelo. It really was an amazing statue, and she was proud that she was the one hosting it. Whether that meant she would have an indecency protest to deal with in the morning or not, she didn't regret her decision to let it remain uncovered.

The front door was left unlocked on opening nights, and the first guests started to arrive in dribs and drabs. Soon, the gallery was filled with people in their finest clothes. Kenna greeted them all in the main gallery, keeping the Nash Exhibition closed off until the hour was upon them. She had just surreptitiously checked her watch when she heard a smattering of applause from near the front doors. 

The man of the hour, David Nash, had arrived.

He was dressed for the occasion in a suit, looking as uncomfortable in it as a kid who had been dragged to Mass by his parents. He was unshaven, a token rebellious move, but Kenna had to admit that the rugged look worked for him. Very, very well in fact. She crossed the room to greet him before she realized the blonde man standing a step behind him was Alexander Lind, also dressed in a suit, and very obviously David's date.

She smiled when David caught her eye. He met her halfway, and Alexander followed him as if attached by an invisible leash. 

"Kenna, resplendent as always. Quite the turnout."

"Well, it is a David Nash opening. I may have to turn people away."

He straightened his jacket even though it didn't need straightening, ran a hand through his well-coiffed hair, and sighed. "Well, why don't we get this show on the road? We're not going to earn you any commissions just standing here making fun of how I look in my suit."

"You look great," Alexander said.

"He's not wrong."

David rolled his eyes. "I just hope, with that dress, people will take a few seconds to actually look at my work." He put one hand around Alexander's waist, and slipped the other around Kenna's arm. "Shall we?"

Kenna allowed herself to be escorted across the gallery. The conversations in the room had reached a lull, so Kenna didn't have to tap a glass or try to gather everyone's attention. David's arrival had been more than enough to draw their attention. Alexander stepped away from David as he and Kenna took a position in front of the Nash Exhibition.

"Patrons, thank you for taking the time to attend this opening. I'm sure you all know the work of David Thomas Nash." There was a polite round of applause. "Mr. Nash has always had an eclectic style, moving from one medium to the next without hesitation. Tonight's exhibition is no different, as you'll find examples of watercolors as well as sculptures. Mr. Nash has been working on this show for almost two years, and I think you'll find that it's been well worth the wait. Enjoy."

She stepped aside and allowed the first guests into the gallery. David stayed close to her and lowered his voice. "No mention of bracing themselves for the male anatomy?"

Kenna shrugged. "Ninety-five percent of the people in this room have either touched one or have one of their own. And the five percent who haven't have bigger problems than a scandalous piece of art."

David grinned and gestured for her to lead the way into the gallery.

To Kenna, the Michael Angelo seemed to dominate every other piece in the room. The spotlights made him seem alive, like the sculpture had retained some of the glow from the daylight and held it in reserve until this moment. Kenna split away from David and moved closer to the statue. Several patrons were close to the statue, but Amelia Toll was the first to actually examine the statue closely. She was in her sixties, and generally favored pastoral scenes. Her invitation had been sent before Kenna saw the statue, and now she froze as the woman turned and looked at it. Her eyes were drawn, naturally, to the penis at eye level. Her head rolled back slightly, her shoulders hunched, and she whispered, "Well."

Kenna wasn't sure how to take that, but at least Amelia didn't huff and thunder about it. She simply looked at the statue and then walked away to continue her examination of the room. 

Rodney Henderson, who had spent more in Kenna's gallery in the last year than she had spent for her apartment, looked up at the sculpture's face and seemed to notice the erection as an afterthought. He took a sip of his champagne, turned to his companion and said, "I believe I know that fellow."

His companion rolled his eyes and slapped Rodney's arm. "You wish."

Kenna relaxed and began to mingle with her other guests. In half an hour, two of David's painting had red dots next to their plaques marking them as sold. Amelia Toll purchased a sculpture of hands stretched out for help, and she explained that it would be a marvelous centerpiece at several of her charity fundraisers. Kenna introduced her to David, and he agreed to do a few commissioned pieces for the fundraisers. His offer prompted Amelia to buy two more paintings.

Roz arrived with her boyfriend, a scruffy young man who looked even more uncomfortable in his suit than David did. She took him directly to the statue and Kenna saw him do a double take. Roz whispered something in his ear and he began to shift uncomfortably. Kenna chuckled and went over to introduce herself. 

"Hey, boss. Great turn-out."

"Yeah, David's doing pretty well for himself. And for us, of course." She looked at the boyfriend. "Kenna Ross."

"Hi." Roz nudged him sharply in the side and he seemed to wake up. "Oh, uh, Steven Hawse. Why aren't there prices on anything?"

Roz answered, "Because if you have to ask, you can't afford it. We're going to go mingle. You look great tonight, by the way."

"Thanks. It was nice meeting you."

Steven nodded and glanced at the statue one more time before Roz guided him away. Kenna overheard him whisper, "That's not realistic, right? I mean, it's not..."

During the rest of the night, only one person approached Kenna with a complaint. The woman's lips were pressed tightly together, her eyes wide, and her body turned so she couldn't even see the statue in her periphery as she asked if it could be covered up. Kenna flatly refused. The woman had simply squared her shoulders and shook her head as she rejoined the crowd, but Kenna didn't care. That woman probably wouldn't have opened her checkbook tonight anyway, so what was the loss?

Eventually the guests began to trickle out. Soon the gallery was only sparsely populated by people trying to make that final decision. David stood against one wall, as far from any painting as possible, with Alexander standing beside him like a centurion. Kenna approached and David smiled when he saw her.

"Odd how I can work on a painting or a sculpture for thirteen hours straight without looking up, but two hours at one of these things and I'm utterly drained."

"It's just you in the studio. Here, you have people judging that work and deciding if it's worthy of their hard-earned money. I'm surprised you're still sober."

David brightened. "Now there is an idea. Do you think they'd notice if we--"

"Yes." Alexander put his hand on David's shoulder and squeezed. "It won't be much longer. These fine people will decide which of your amazing paintings to buy, and then we'll go home and forget about this whole ordeal."

"I suppose." He scanned the remaining crowd as if he could will them to make up their minds and leave. He looked at Kenna. "Have I thanked you for your decision to display the statue as-is? It really meant a lot to me."

"I did some research on censorship. Did you know the Statue of Liberty was originally topless, but the French covered her up in deference to American morals? I mean really. Censoring the Statue of Liberty. Apparently our forefathers were fans of irony." She looked at the statue again. "And I only received one complaint, and it wasn't even that strong of a complaint. I guess the only problem with it was mine."

Alexander smiled. "Well, at least you saw the light."

Kenna looked at him and decided to ask the question that was weighing on her mind. "How do you deal with it? Standing here with everyone standing around looking at your... a-at you?"

He shrugged and turned to look at the statue. "No one has mentioned that it's me. Apparently they're not looking too closely at the face."

Kenna remembered the first time someone had looked at her, looked down at the poetry book, and then looked back at her with a smile. "Well, you're a braver person than I'll ever be."

David raised an eyebrow. "So I guess I shouldn't even ask you tonight if you're willing to pose for me."

Kenna shook her head and looked shyly down at her hands. "I thought your plan was to make money, not repulse people."

Alexander looked between them. "Repulse people?"

David waved him off. "It's a running joke between us." 

Alexander wasn't amused. "That's a terrible joke. You're a beautiful woman, Ms. Ross. A sculpture of you would be... it would be amazing."

Her blush deepened until she was sure it matched her dress. She focused on how her fingers wrapped around the stem of her champagne glass. 

"Don't listen to him," David said, defusing the situation. "He knows absolutely nothing about art." When Kenna looked up, she caught a look between the men. David silently told Alexander to drop it, and Alexander complied without comment.

She gestured at the remaining buyers. "I should go see if anyone else is willing to spend their kids' inheritance for you."

"Be heartless," David said. "Let the kids create their own fortunes. It builds character."

Between their conversation and the time the last patron left, she only sold one more painting. Regardless, there were enough red dots throughout the room to make her happy, and David seemed equally satisfied with the results of the night. 

He and Alexander both hugged Kenna on their way out. "It was worth putting on a suit for this," David said.

"High praise indeed," Alexander said.

Kenna smiled. "I saw your studio and all those works in progress. As soon as you have enough to fill up another wall in here, give me a call and we'll set up another one."

"It's a date."

She locked the door after they left, feeling only slightly ridiculous in her fine dress and heels. She turned off the overhead lights and went into the Nash Exhibition, which would be open to the public starting on Monday. With the lights off, the sculpture looked even more impressive. Kenna stood in front of it and ran her eyes down its body. Alexander Lind, life-sized and anatomically correct. It was no wonder he had captured David's attention; he had a gorgeous face and a body to match.

Kenna picked up the gloves and pulled them on as she stared up at the Michael Angelo's face. She stepped out of her heels, toes curling on the cool tile before she stepped onto the pedestal. The statue was just a bit taller than her, so her eyes were even with his chin. His face was turned away from her and, with a deep breath, she wrapped her fingers around his cock. 

She didn't stroke it; she just held it and felt its weight. Then she reached back and unzipped her dress. The material pooled around her feet, and she kept her eyes on the sculpture's cheek as she undid her bra and dropped it as well. She was shaking, very aware of just how recently this room had been filled with people. She could almost feel their eyes on her as she turned around and faced the gallery.

In her imagination, Roz came into the room. "Hey, boss. I stayed late to help you with the clean-up. What are you doing?!"

In her imagination, the crowd wandered back in for one last circuit and the room slowly filled with people gazing up at her body.

She felt the brush of the sculpture's cock against the curve of her ass. She straightened her shoulders and lifted her chin, eyes forward. She licked her lips and pushed a hand into her underwear. She could almost see Amelia Toll, Steven Hawse, and even Roz standing in front of the pedestal and gazing up at her. Her bottom lip trembled and she withdrew her hand from her panties. She stepped off the pedestal, grabbed her clothes, and hurried out of the room to the safety of her office.

Once there she sat with her back to the wall, her clothes bundled against her chest as she rested her head on her knees until she had the strength to get up and get dressed again.

#

Kenna parked in the same place in front of David's house. She wore white Capri pants and a baggy blue blouse. She moved across the lawn quickly, not even bothering to check the front door. She had a feeling that David would be spending a lot of time in his studio after making so many sales. When she finally left the gallery after the show, she had gone straight home and spent the evening pacing. She undressed in the bathroom and looked at herself in the mirror, then forced herself to spend an hour naked.

She fed Bastet, watched television, read a magazine, and did a load of dishes. The stigma of being naked faded, but it never left her completely. She felt it like a string between her shoulders, pulling slightly so that her back was hunched. When she crossed the room, she imagined she was crossing enemy territory and waiting for a bullet to whiz past her head. When she finally put on her pajamas, she lay in bed and stared at the ceiling. She cursed her cowardice and made up her mind about what she had to do.

She heard the music coming from David's studio even before she stepped onto the porch, knocking loudly and waiting for a response.

David answered a few seconds later. He smiled when he saw her. "Kenna. Did someone else call to make a purchase after I left?"

"No. Can I come in?"

He stepped aside and let her inside. He was wearing a lightweight shirt that was only partially buttoned, revealing his bare chest. He was barefoot again, and Kenna realized that they were the same height thanks to her flat-soled shoes. She stopped at the end of the twin tables, and David continued on to his painting. 

He seemed to sense her serious demeanor and adjusted his tone. "Is everything okay? You didn't start getting complaints, did you?"

"No. Everyone seemed to accept the sculpture. Everyone but me."

"You're a businesswoman. You have to err on the side of caution."

Kenna stared at his back as he examined his painting. "Aren't you going to ask me?"

"Hm?"

"The thing you always ask me when we see each other. Every single conversation we've had for the past five years, you've asked me something."

David turned. He was frowning now. "Are you sure everything's okay?"

"Why do you always ask me to pose for you? What could you possibly see--"

"I see a beautiful woman with an amazing body. I see someone who is strong, and smart. I see a face that deserves to be recorded for future generations."

Kenna's eyes watered. "I'd like to see myself the way you do."

He stepped closer to her and Kenna closed her eyes. 

"I wish you could, too. You thought it was a joke, every time I asked, but I kept hoping one day you would cave in and agree. Do you know why I sculpt the people I do?"

She could only shake her head because words were beyond her. He put his hands lightly on her face, his fingers touching her jaw while his thumb rested on her cheeks.

"Because some people are too beautiful and too special. Some people deserve a bit of immortality. I have the talent to give it to them. I want people a hundred years from now to look at a statue of you, or a painting, and know that you existed."

"I'll give you this," she said, trying to keep her voice level, "your spiel is getting better."

David smiled and leaned in to lightly kiss her lips. When he pulled back, she turned her head and kissed the meaty part of his palm.

"Thank you."

"Just remember that next time I ask you to pose."

She leaned closer to him. "Ask me now."

"Will you please... please pose for me, Kenna?"

Kenna kissed him. His hands moved from her face and into her hair, grabbing it with both hands to keep her from retreating. She had her eyes open long enough to see his close and she abandoned herself to the kiss, one hand on David's shoulder for support as she pressed her body against him. Her lips parted and David slipped his tongue inside. Kenna moaned, and David put his free hand on her hip.

When she felt his fingers on the bare skin above her waistband, she broke the kiss and gently pushed him away. "Wait... you and Alexander--"

"I have protection, and he and I have both been tested. Every six months. You don't have to worry about that."

She was shaking her head vehemently and leaned away from him. "No, you and Alexander are together. I can't. I can't do this."

David let go of her, dropping his hand from her hip as he moved his hand from her hair to the side of her neck. "Alexander and I have an agreement. But if you're not comfortable--"

"An agreement."

"Not everyone is comfortable with it. I'll understand if you'd rather end this here."

Kenna silenced him by kissing him again. David's hand returned to her hips, and he turned them around. She felt his right leg moving and looked down as he pulled a drop cloth out from under the table. He kissed her neck, his hand dropping from her hip to the curve of her hip. Kenna put her arms around his shoulders and bent her knees, pulling him down on top of her. David's tongue slipped into her mouth as she stretched out on the cloth, and he pushed his hand up under her blouse to touch her stomach.

Kenna shook at his touch, and she reached down to guide his hand to the button of her pants. He took the message and undid the button, the zipper sounding very loud even though his music was still playing. She put her hands on the back of his head and broke their kiss, gasping for air as she looked at him. 

She trusted him more than probably any man she'd ever been with, but she still felt awkward about undressing in front of him. She was afraid he would see her in the buff and rescind his comments about her beauty. "You have to take off my clothes."

He smiled. "I'll see if I can manage."

She closed her eyes as he worked his fingers under the hem of her blouse. He pushed it up, and Kenna raised her arms so he could get it off. He tossed it to a clean spot on the floor, then ran his palms down the outside of her arms. Kenna whimpered, tensing up to stop herself from quaking, and he brushed the back of one hand against the curve of her breast through her bra. He kissed the corners of her mouth. "Relax..."

She tried, but it was difficult. David kept his hands on her, stroking her arms and shoulders before migrating down to her stomach. Kenna imagined she was a piece of clay and he was molding her, shaping her into something or someone else. He cupped her breasts and she lifted her chin, letting him push his hands up to her neck and under her hair. He kissed her again, still kneeling between her legs. Kenna bent her knees and closed them around his hips, hanging off his midsection. 

She arched her back when his hands slid across her ribcage and he unhooked her bra, gently peeling it away from her body. Kenna felt the panic start to rise, struggling to keep her hands on David instead of using them to cover herself. She opened her eyes and focused on David's face as he looked at her. His hands cupped her breasts, and she moaned when his thumbs brushed her nipples. He looked up and met her eyes. 

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah."

He kissed her again, and Kenna ran her hands down his chest. She pushed into the open front of his shirt and touched his chest, his nipples and stomach before she found the button of his pants. She moved lower and groped him through the denim of his jeans, squeezing and making him groan into their kiss. She kept her hands on him as he teased her breasts, his tongue wrestling with hers as the kiss became hungry, nearly violent in the fight for dominance.

She kept her hands on him when she turned her head, forcing him to kiss along her cheek to her ear. He took the lobe into her mouth and nibbled on it, and Kenna sighed with pleasure.

"Y-you said you had protection..."

"Yeah... in the drawer." He put his hand on her chin and forced her to look at him again, kissing her lips. "I'll be right back."

When he stood, Kenna noticed the absence of his weight. She crossed her arms over her chest, one hand on each shoulder, and twisted so she could watch him hurry across the room. She brought one hand to her mouth, nipping at the pad of her thumb as she waited for him to come back. Then she noticed the heads. Faces of unfinished or abandoned statues stood on the tables all around the room. It was a peanut gallery of witnesses, passively looking down at her. They didn't judge her body one way or another, and she dropped her arms to reveal her breasts to them. She teased her nipples with her thumbs and they didn't even flinch.

"Hurry," she said.

David smiled at her over his shoulder as he pulled open a drawer on his supply drawer. He withdrew a black-and-gold box of condoms and tossed it aside as he took out a wrapper. He started to put the box back in the drawer but Kenna whispered, "Two." He didn't hear her, so she repeated herself louder. "Two. Get two."

He looked back, seemed distracted by the sight of her kneeling naked on the drop cloth, and nodded. He took two packages and returned to where she was lying. Kenna rolled onto her back and David stood over her, the condoms in one hand as he shrugged off his shirt and dropped it. He unbuttoned his jeans, and Kenna's eyes ran down his body to the flat muscles that seemed to point to his crotch. He pushed the jeans down his hips without bothering to unbutton them, then shed his briefs as well.

Kenna's eyes widened as he knelt between her legs again. He put the condoms aside so he could use both hands to tug her pants down. She'd forgotten they were already unbuttoned and was surprised at how easily they slid down her legs. She lifted her feet, and David tossed the pants aside. He rested her feet on his shoulders and looked down at her. He ran his eyes up her body, pausing at her breasts before he looked into her eyes.

David's voice was breathless and eager as he stared at her face. "I can't believe you had to ask why I'd want to sculpt you."

She shook her head, her hair sticking to the sweat on her cheeks. "I'm nothing special."

"Yes, you are." He kissed her ankles and moved his lips slowly down her legs. She was trembling by the time his tongue began to make circles on her thigh, his lips sucking gently before moving lower. Kenna closed her eyes and tried to steady her breathing. Her chest heaved with each inhale and she felt like she was going to explode. Finally, after what seemed like far too much teasing, she felt his mouth on her sex. His tongue was like a living thing, exploring and wild, and his lips pushed her open so it could press deeper. 

In the back of her mind, she heard tearing and knew that he'd opened one of the wrappers. She didn't care what he was doing, all she wanted was to feel this good - or better - for at least another hour. Maybe two. He teased her clit with his tongue, rubbed her with a knuckle, and then suddenly sat up. Kenna looked down as he sat up, her legs draped over his thighs so that she was open for him. She reached down and took his cock in her hand, squeezing it as she brushed the tip against herself.

They both moaned, and Kenna pushed down against him. Her labia spread around him, enveloping the tip before he rocked his hips and was suddenly inside of her. They both held still for a moment, and then David placed his hands on her waist. Kenna was amazed at how well his thumbs fit against her hips, as if they had been carved out of stone just for that purpose. She arched her back and let him fill her, flattening her hands on his chest as he slowly eased inside.

Kenna rested her weight on her shoulders and the balls of her feet, her midsection arched to meet him. David slipped one hand down to the small of her back, spreading his fingers to offer her support as he began to move faster against her. She watched him, noted that he kept his eyes open and wandering as he moved. He stared at her body with the sort of attention she would expect from a sculptor, and it made her feel extraordinarily loved.

He reached up and cupped her cheek with his hand, brushing his thumb over her lips until she took it into her mouth. She sucked gently, wetting it with quick passes of her tongue before he pulled it away. He covered her pubic hair with his fingers, extending his thumb to tease her clit. She cried out at his touch, inadvertently raking his chest with her fingernails before she dropped her hands to the drop cloth. She made fists in the heavy canvas and closed her eyes, meeting David's thrusts as she trembled with the onset of her orgasm.

David slowed his thrusting, his thumb still circling, as Kenna came. She tightened around him, squeezing him until he groaned. Despite her efforts, Kenna still finished first. Her body relaxed on the drop cloth, and David slipped free and pulled off his condom. Kenna looked down and wrapped her fingers around him, flashing back to the night before and her dream of the statue. As she stroked, David rocked his hips forward until he came on her fingers, twitching like a captured creature against her palm. Kenna whimpered at the sight, biting her bottom lip until he stopped twitching and she let him go.

David braced his hands on the canvas on either side of Kenna's head and bent down, kissing her as she slipped her unsoiled hand around his waist. He rested lightly on top of her, most of his weight on his hands and knees. Kenna held her other hand out to the side, feeling his come dripping down the inside of her wrist but reluctant to wipe it away. It was evidence for what she had just done, something tactile she could use to ground herself.

Finally, David sat up and stroked her cheek. "I think I could get used to this kind of post-show congratulations."

She smiled shyly. "I don't know what prompted that."

"Whatever it was, I'm glad it happened."

"Me too."

He kissed Kenna again before he stood up. Kenna pushed herself into a sitting position and watched him as he walked across the room. She held the hand she had used to get him off with the other hand, cradling it like something precious. The studio was well-lit for obvious reasons, and Kenna had a good view of his body as he walked to a door across the room. His cock was still semi-erect and bounced when he walked, and Kenna blushed at the sight of it. An erection carved out of marble was definitely a sight to see, but nothing compared to the real thing. 

David disappeared into the next room and Kenna heard water running. A few seconds later he returned with a moist washrag. He knelt beside her, took her hand, and gently wiped it clean. Kenna let him wash her, running the soft cloth down her arm following the trail of his come, and then surprised her with a sudden kiss.

Kenna closed her eyes, opening her mouth to his, pressing her wet palm against his chest to push him back when she wanted air. 

"This wasn't what I meant." He cleared his throat. "Just so you know. I don't want you to think that all those times I asked you to model for me, I didn't expect--"

"I know. This was my choice."

"Well, it was a mutual decision."

Kenna nodded.

He stroked her hair, smoothing down the fly-aways that had been caused by her position. 

"You have paint in your hair." She looked at the strand he was holding out and saw a blue tint to the end. He gestured at the room he'd just visited. "There's a shower through there. In case you want to wash it out before you get dressed again. The towels are under the sink."

"Thank you." 

He held up the remaining condom. "Should I put this back in the drawer?"

Kenna stared at it for a long moment and shook her head. "Nope."

"Noted." He brushed her jaw with his fingertips, kissed her one more time, and gathered his clothes. Kenna picked up her own clothes, noting that David had made sure to put them off the drop cloth when he took them off. She stood up and held the clothes in front of her like a shield, facing David as he stood naked in front of her. She hesitated and then tucked her clothes against her side.

"Thank you, David."

"Any time."

Kenna carried her clothes into the bathroom. There was a very small shower stall separated from the rest of the room by a thin transparent curtain. Kenna took a towel from under the sink as David knocked on the door. "There's something I have to do in the house. Will you be okay out here?"

"Mm-hmm."

"I'll see you soon. Take your time with the shower."

He closed the door when he left, and Kenna put her clothes on the narrow sink. She looked in the mirror and examined the paint damage. There was a big red smudge on the back of her right shoulder, and her hair had barely noticeable streaks of blue in it. She stepped into the shower and turned it on, gasping as the cold water hit her mid-chest. She cupped her hands under the spray, and then pushed her hands through her hair until it was flat against her head.

She bent forward and scrubbed, watching as faint blue swirls of water circled around her toes and down the drain. In the middle of washing, she suddenly laughed. She clapped her hand over her mouth to try to contain it, but she couldn't help herself. She sagged against the wall, shaking her head as the water cascaded down her body. She had just had sex with David Nash, in the middle of his studio, with the door unlocked and light shining through the windows. What the hell had possessed her?

And how could she make it possess her again?

When the water was clear, and she could no longer see the smudge on her shoulder, she shut off the shower and stepped out of the stall. She dried off, bending down to rub the water from her legs before she wrapped the towel around herself. She wondered if David had a bed in the house, a big comfortable bed where she wouldn't have to worry about paint smudges. She opened the bathroom door and stepped out into the studio. David had changed his clothes and was kneeling to stuff the drop cloth back under the table.

"I thought you were going to get ready for a second round."

The man straightened and twisted at the waist, and Kenna realized it was Alexander. Her hand went to the knot of the towel, making sure it stayed in place. The only thing she could convince her feet to do was take one step back toward the safety of the bathroom. Alexander looked more embarrassed than she did, and nearly knocked something off the table when he turned away. 

"Sorry, I assumed it was... David sometimes takes showers in the middle of the..."

A limp strand of hair fell into her face, but she didn't want to risk brushing it away. She wanted to accept his apology, but she couldn't bring herself to do that when she felt like she was the one who should apologize.

"David said the two of you h-had an arrangement--"

"We do, yes, don't worry about... if I had known you were here, I would--"

Their dueling explanations were silenced when the door opened and David returned. He looked at Alexander, and then looked past him at Kenna. 

"Oh."

Alexander cleared his throat and moved toward the door. "I was just on my way out. I didn't realize. Sorry."

Kenna and David both told him to wait at the same time. He paused in the doorway, staring at David and having a silent conversation with him using just their eyes. Kenna approached them, her bare feet padding quietly on the floor as she stepped over the place she and David had so recently gotten to know one another.

It was finally Kenna who broke the silence. "I want to pose for him."

Alexander turned around to look at her. "He said he's been asking you for five years."

She nodded. "From the moment we met. I wasn't ready. But I think I am now." She was breathing hard, reliving that first awful day when she realized how many people were carrying a drawing of her naked body around campus. She stood beside Alexander and took his hand, hoping he didn't notice how much she was shaking as she drew his hand to the knot of her towel. She looked at David, who was watching them both very closely. Alexander seemed as frozen as the Michael Angelo as his fingers curled around the knot.

"I'd like it if you were there, too. So I could use your strength."

Alexander looked at her, and then he looked at David. He shrugged almost imperceptibly, and Alexander pulled.

The towel fell, and Kenna stood naked between the two men. Her fingers twitched from wanting to cover herself. 

She forced her chin up, her shoulders back, assuming a position of power despite the urge to flee. She looked at David, who was looking at Alexander, who was staring at Kenna's body.

Finally she broke the stalemate and slapped her hands gently against her hips. "Where should we start?"

#

Kenna stood on a pallet that made her just a few inches taller. It altered her perspective of the room just enough to make it look odd. David joined her on the pallet, which she had started to think of as a stage. He lowered his voice, although she wasn't sure why since Alexander was still close enough to hear, and said, "Are you sure this is what you want to do?"

"Do I have time to hit the gym? Lose about ten pounds?"

David grinned. "You have neither the time nor the need." He leaned in and kissed her, a casual move that sent electrical charges from her toes to the top of her head. "You're gorgeous. Trust me. I'm the artist."

"Then we might as well get this over with."

His touch was gentle as he guided her body into a new position. Her right hand was placed on her left hip, and her left hand was gently placed on the curve of her left breast above the nipple. David crouched and slid his hand down the back of her thigh, guiding her right leg forward. He touched her foot, and she pointed her toes. Kenna looked past him at Alexander. His arms were crossed, his right hand at his mouth so he could chew on his thumbnail. He felt her eyes on him and met her gaze, and he smiled.

David stood and brushed her chin. She looked into his eyes and smiled. He winked at her and stepped back and off the platform. He picked up a block of clay and opened a drawer to remove some tools. 

"What is this pose?"

"Warrior woman," David said. He pushed the drawer shut with his hip. "It's what I've had in mind for you since the moment we met."

Kenna raised an eyebrow. "How is this warrior woman?"

"Hand on your heart, the other hand reaching for your sword." Alexander smiled. "He'll add the sword and sheath later."

"And the clay?"

David said, "It's my first draft. You don't want to have to hold that pose while I'm carving marble with power tools. You might get a little uncomfortable before I was even a tenth of the way finished."

She shrugged. That made sense. 

Alexander pushed away from the table. "Are you sure you want me here? I could--"

Kenna shook her head. "You stay right where you are, mister. I stared at your cock for the past three days. The least you can do is make sure David remains a gentleman."

David and Alexander both snorted at the insinuation that David was a gentleman, and they smiled at each other before David started molding the clay into a female shape with his fingers. Occasionally he would move to look at Kenna's body from a different angle. She expected it to be more like art class, but this was a wholly different animal. That was sitting on a stool in a comfortable position and letting her mind wander. The more time she spent holding her pose, the more she felt like a Stretch Armstrong that had been mutilated. Her trapezius muscle had grown too tight, and she grunted.

Before she could ask permission to rub out the kink, Alexander had responded to the quiet sound. "Where does it hurt?"

"M-my right shoulder."

He put his hand on her shoulder and squeezed the muscle. Kenna closed her eyes as he massaged the ache away. His fingers were thin, but he seemed to know exactly where to touch. His thumb applied a steady pressure as he rolled it in an ever widening circle. The muscle relaxed, and Kenna sighed. "Thank you."

"All the times he's tortured me, it's the least I could do."

He kept his hand on her shoulder, the other on her hip. It was all she could do not to lean back against him. She remembered her experiment after the opening, how the statue's penis had brushed against her ass. That was Alexander's penis, and she couldn't help but wonder how the real deal stacked up. He kept massaging her, and she rolled her head forward. 

"Ah, David will make me stop if you fall asleep."

"Screw David."

"I thought you already did."

She smiled, blushed, and lifted her head back into the same position. David had been silently circling them up to that point. "Alex, I need her back."

"Are you good?"

"Yes. Thank you."

He rubbed her shoulder before he stepped away. 

"Kenna, what do you think about a series? I'd love to do a painting of you and Alexander together."

She opened her eyes. Together? What did he mean by that? 

"We could try it."

"Good. Thank you."

The light had shifted, and Kenna tried to look toward the window without moving her head. "What time is it?"

"A little past one in the afternoon. Do you want to break for lunch?"

"Whenever you do. You're the artist, as you keep reminding us."

David moved back into her line of sight. The block of clay in his hand had become an action figure. The edges were still rough, and her hair was basically just a blob of brown, but otherwise it was taking shape. 

"I can still shave off those ten pounds if you want me to."

"No. I said I wanted to know how you see me."

David nodded. "Good. I think we can break for lunch soon."

Alexander motioned at the door. "Why don't I go cook us something? Kenna, is pasta okay?"

She glanced down toward her stomach. "In moderation."

"If you gain any weight, I'm sure David will help you work it off. He has a very unique exercise program."

Kenna smirked. "I'll bet he does." 

When Alexander was gone, David looked up at her. "Sorry about that."

"There's nothing to apologize for. I'm the one who's sorry." She sighed. "The three of us have been apologizing way too much today, I think."

David nodded. "Best way to avoid hurt feelings. Apologize often and sincerely."

"So this arrangement you guys have. What exactly does it entail? Have there been many other exceptions?"

"There was one, at the beginning of our relationship. Alexander's ex came to town, and he went back and forth between the two of us. When that ended, we became exclusive again."

"Oh. So I'm only the second?"

"And the first woman. Congratulations."

"Yay me."

"To be honest, you're the first woman I've been with in a very long time. Since my early twenties. I found myself drawn to you, Kenna."

She smiled to avoid coming up with an answer. Finally she said, "There's something about you too, David. I hate being naked with people. Even the people I sleep with, I make sure there's a lot of clothes between me and them the first few times."

He looked up at her. "That's why you said I had to undress you. So what's different about me?"

"I don't know. But I feel comfortable with you and Alexander."

David put down the clay and stepped onto the platform. He gently guided Kenna out of her pose, and she sighed with relief as she was allowed to assume a more natural position. He rubbed her arms, warming the muscles before he reached up and rubbed her shoulders. She closed her eyes and sagged forward. David caught her and kissed her temple.

"You know, Alexander and I have another arrangement if you're interested."

"Oh?"

He slipped his arms around her waist and she embraced him. She hadn't even realized how cold she was until she felt the warmth of his clothes. She wrapped her hands in the bottom of his shirt, put her head down on his shoulder, and let him rub her back. She was hardly even aware of the fact she was naked, and she relished that freedom. 

David pulled back and smoothed her hair. "You can go get dressed now."

"Do I have to?"

"If we want poor Alexander to focus on lunch, I think it would be for the best."

She grudgingly agreed, and he held her hand as she stepped off the pallet. "You know, I've had so many dreams lately. I'm afraid I'm going to wake up at some point and find none of this has happened."

"And what if you do wake up?"

She shrugged, and she knew David's eyes were on her ass when she walked to the bathroom to retrieve her clothes. The knowledge he was staring gave her a thrill. "Then I'm going to break all the speed limits driving over to your house in real life so we can do it all over again."

"I'll be sure to leave the door unlocked."

#

David had left the studio by the time she was dressed, so Kenna took a short walk of shame across the lawn in her bare feet. The back door was open but she still knocked before she stepped inside. Alexander was at the stove, and David was pouring three glasses of wine. He glanced up as she came in and held up the bottle. "I hope you don't mind drinking in the afternoon."

"I don't like having sex before noon, but I'm making all kinds of exceptions today."

David smiled and placed the bottle to one side. He picked up one of the glasses and kissed her as he handed it over. She still felt awkward being kissed by him with Alexander so close, and she kept her eyes open to watch him until David pulled away. She walked over to the stove and looked at the meal being prepared. "It smells delicious."

"It should be ready in a few minutes."

When he turned to her, she surprised him by kissing him. His lips parted under hers, and the hand not holding the spoon slipped around her waist. His palm was warm in the small of her back, and she pecked the corners of his mouth before she leaned back. "I didn't want you to feel left out."

He still looked shell-shocked. "Very kind of you. Thank you. It's been a while since I kissed a woman. It was very nice."

She stepped away from the stove and took her cell from her pocket. "I should probably call Roz and check in. Excuse me." She gestured at the swinging door that led into the living room and David nodded. She stepped through and dialed, examining the décor as she listened to the buzz of the line ringing. 

The entire house seemed spartan, with only a few touches of color here and there. She was impressed with the overall feel of class and minimalism. A cream colored couch stood against the far wall, with an Oriental-style cloth draped over the back. The lights were off, but the large picture window facing the street filtered sunlight through the pale blue curtains. It made her feel as if she was underwater as she sat on the edge of the couch. She was preparing to compose a message to Roz's voicemail when the call was answered.

"Hey, boss. Sorry, I was on the other line."

"That could be a good thing. A buyer?"

"Someone was asking about some of Nash's earlier work. They ended up buying his Rainier portrait."

Kenna smiled. "That's amazing. I'll let him know. The, the next time I see him." She ran her fingers through her hair. "I just wanted to let you know I probably wouldn't be dropping by this afternoon." Post-show days were usually lazy, dealing with the stragglers and callers who had slept on their decisions and finally made the choice of what they wanted to buy. Roz could deal with that without her supervision.

"Okay. We've only gotten a couple of calls from patrons. We got one call from the newspaper for a quote in a story about the sculpture."

"Oh?"

"Nothing controversial, no rabble-rousing. Just a comment on the fact that it might not be an art exhibition people should bring their kids to."

Kenna could live with that. "Did you give them the standard spiel?"

"Yep. The reporter said the show is going to get a good write-up in the Arts section in the Sunday edition. I think we could look forward to a few more sales once the public starts seeping in on Monday."

"Excellent news, Roz. Listen, since I'm making you hold down the fort by yourself, why don't you come in late on Monday? Sometime in the afternoon."

"I really love you, boss."

Kenna laughed. "Just stay out of trouble. I'll talk to you Monday, if not before." She hung up and went back into the kitchen. "Looks like we have another reason to celebrate. We may have sold at least one more of your paintings. The Rainier."

Alexander held up his glass, smiling proudly.

David ignored the praise. "Any word on controversy?"

She sat down at the table across from David. "Just a newspaper story about how your show is adults only."

"As long as no one is disturbing your business, I can live with it."

Alexander served up their lunch, offering them sauce before pouring it onto the pasta. He took a seat between Kenna and David. The meal started with compliments to the chef, and Kenna tried not to freak out at how strange her day had been. She'd known David Nash for five years, and suddenly she was acting like his wife. Or maybe his mistress. Whatever she was, they couldn't go back to being just sponsor and client. 

Alexander intruded on her thoughts. "I've wanted to ask you since David first mentioned your gallery. I don't think I've ever heard the name Kenna before. Is it a family name, or...?"

Kenna laughed. "Not exactly. My parents had three boys. By the time I came along, my mother had promised to let my Dad name me. He expected, naturally, boy number four and chose Kenneth. Then I came along and he had to make some adjustments."

"I think it's beautiful," Alexander said.

"Thank you. It's certainly unique."

David shrugged. "Unique can be good."

Kenna took a sip of her wine. "I told Roz that I wouldn't be in to work today. I don't want to be presumptuous, but I thought maybe the three of us could spend some time getting to know each other better."

David glanced at Alexander and smiled at him before turning back to Kenna. "We were kind of hoping you would feel that way. In fact, watching you kiss him was quite... inspirational. I definitely want to use you both in something. Soon. I meant what I said about some people being so special, so unique, that I want to preserve them forever. You and Alexander are both prime examples, and to see you two together like that... was..."

Kenna pushed her chair back from the table and walked to where Alexander was sitting. She put her hand on his chin and lifted his head until he was looking up at her, and she bent down to kiss him passionately. She sent one hand down his neck and under the collar of his shirt while the other stroked his hair. Her tongue pushed into his mouth and he greeted it with his own, sliding his hand under her blouse to stroke her stomach.

Even though he was a relative stranger, his hand felt comforting on her skin. His fingers uncurled so he could brush them against her stomach. She felt like she knew him, like he had been created just for her pleasure. He was her dream lover brought to life in a warm, breathing, beautiful man. And to top it off, he was funny and kind and looked at her with the same admiration she sometimes saw in David's eyes. 

Kenna kissed the corners of Alexander's mouth and looked across the table. David was leaning back in his seat, one hand under the edge of the table. She wondered if he was rubbing through his pants or if he'd actually taken his cock out. Not knowing made her tremble as she casually walked back to her place and sat down.

"Shall we eat?"

David seemed to shake off his daze and smiled at her before scooting forward to focus on his meal. Alexander ran his thumb over his bottom lip, smiled at David, and bumped his foot against Kenna's.

During the meal, Alexander quizzed Kenna and David about their relationship. Kenna recounted the first time David walked into her gallery. "I thought he was some trust fund baby looking for something to decorate his penthouse. He just walked from one painting to the next like he was reading pages that had been stapled to the wall. Now I know that he was judging the quality of the stuff we display and seeing if we were worthy for his genius."

"Nothing quite that self-involved. I just wanted to know if it would be a good fit for what I was offering. I didn't want my work to suffer because no one came to you for quality."

Kenna shrugged. "Whatever your reasons, we were deemed worthy. Then I got to judge his stuff and, fortunately, it was fantastic."

"Were you attracted to him?"

David laughed. "At the time she was dating a guy who worked for her moving company."

"That wasn't the question," Alexander said, looking at Kenna. "Were you attracted to him way back then?"

Kenna looked at David, her fingers lightly brushing her wine glass. "He's a beautiful man. So yeah, I was attracted to him. But then I found out he was gay--"

"Bisexual."

"At the time we were both unavailable. You could have been asexual as far as I was concerned. Besides, I try to separate business and pleasure."

David faked shock. "Does that mean I'm getting dropped from your gallery?"

"It means I'm making one more concession to my rules."

David smiled and looked down at his plate. Kenna realized they were done eating and became suddenly shy. She pushed her plate away and looked at Alexander as she pushed her chair back. She stood and went around the edge of the table. Alexander looked up at her, and she brushed his cheeks with her hands. She moved her fingers down to his neck and felt his pulse throbbing. His skin felt abnormally thin, but she realized that was due to using the statue as her frame of reference.

"You're an amazing artist, David. But nothing beats flesh and blood."

She bent down and kissed Alexander again. She heard David's chair scraping across the floor, but she didn't pay attention. She focused on Alexander's mouth, his soft lips and the way his tongue tentatively met hers. She slid her hands down to his shoulders, and he reached up to touch her face. Kenna felt David's hand brushing her back, his hip brushing her side, and she felt a thrill. Alexander's mouth tasted of his wine, and Kenna sucked the tip of his tongue before straightening. 

David pulled her back against him, his hands moving around her waist as she twisted to kiss him. Alexander stood and put his hands on David's arms, both men pinning Kenna between them. As soon as she turned away from David, Alexander's lips were on hers again. David put his hands on the button of her pants and Kenna gently pushed them away. She rolled her head back and said, "Wait. Not here."

"Bedroom?" David was speaking to Alexander, who nodded. David took Kenna's arm and gently guided her away from Alexander. They three of them walked through the dim living room, but this time Kenna saw everything in terms of how comfortable it would be to make love on. The thick carpet, the wide couch, against the wall next to the window... but she was determined to make it to the bedroom.

"Can I ask you a question, Alexander?" They were in the short, dark hallway that led to the master bedroom.

"Of course." He brushed his hand down her hair from behind and she shivered at the almost imperceptible touch. 

She swallowed and let David guide her through the open door of their bedroom. She turned to face Alexander. "How did David pose you for the Michael Angelo? How did he get you... tumescent?"

Alexander smiled and leaned in, lowering her voice like it was a secret between the two of them. "He stroked me. He made me stay half-hard for what felt like days." He cupped her face and kissed her cheeks, her closed eyelids, and her eyebrows. "When he finally let me drop the pose, I attacked him. We made love in the studio. Probably right where the two of you did it."

Kenna turned. David was standing by the foot of a king-sized bed, his shirt already gone. His jeans were hanging low enough on his hips for her to know he hadn't bothered to put his underwear back on after their morning adventure. Alexander kissed down Kenna's neck, his hands gently kneading her hips.

"Maybe we should get back at him. Not let him play for a while."

"Mm, I don't know. He pouts."

David crossed the room and pressed himself against Kenna's back. She closed her eyes as the men explored her neck, and she opened her eyes to watch them kiss over her shoulder. She had to hook her hand under Alexander's arm to keep her weak knees from buckling, licked her lips, and stepped to one side. The men came together, and Kenna peeled off her blouse as she watched them. Alexander's hand slid down David's back, under the waistband of his jeans, and David thrust his hips forward as Alexander squeezed.

Kenna circled them, shedding clothes as she went. She stepped out of her pants and underwear, took off her bra as she pressed against Alexander's back. She closed her eyes and kissed the back of his neck, her hands exploring his sides as she pulled up his sweater. She touched his abdomen and sucked in a breath. It was like touching the statue, but different. It was like her dream had come true and the statue had become a living, breathing thing.

Her hand met and tangled with David's at the waistband of Alexander's pants. She let him win, and the pants fell away. As soon as they were gone, Kenna hooked her thumbs in his briefs and knelt to drag them down his legs. The ass she had seen so many times over the past few days was right in front of her, and she cupped a cheek with each hand as she stood up. Alexander raised his arms and David peeled away his sweater, breaking the kiss only long enough to get it out of the way.

"Wait." Kenna pulled Alexander back toward her and kissed his ear. "Pose for me. I need to see you posing."

Alexander's lips curled into a smile as he stepped away from them. When he turned, Kenna saw the cock that had so captured her imagination in the flesh. He looked exactly like the statue, toned and hairless, but his cock was bigger than she expected. He was fully erect, pink from base to tip, but David had obviously taken a lot of care with getting it just right. He assumed the pose, his hand on his shoulder and his head slightly turned to one side.

Kenna dropped to her knees in front of him and took him in her hand. He twitched and jerked, and she kissed the side of the shaft. She breathed deep, smelling him, opening her mouth and curling her tongue along the underside. Alexander stroked her hair with soft touches of his palm, and Kenna was surprised when another tongue touched hers. She opened her eyes and saw David assisting her. David put his hand on Kenna's thigh, and she copied the move. She found the bulge in the front of his jeans, tugged down his zipper, and freed his cock.

She closed her lips around the head of Alexander's cock while stroking David's, trying to split her focus between the two men. When Alexander fell from her mouth, she kissed David and squeezed him. She watched as he took Alexander into his mouth, sweeping with his tongue, and stifled her own moans by kissing Alexander's hip. She ran her tongue over the smooth skin, still expecting to taste stone.

"How are we going to do this?" David's voice was thick with desire, and he was still massaging her thigh. His hand had moved higher, and she guided it between her legs. His slender fingers touched her, and her eyelids drifted shut. 

"I want Alex," she whispered. 

Alexander stepped back, and she felt his hands under her arms. He lifted her, kissed her, and turned to guide her onto the mattress. She pushed herself up to the pillows, resting her shoulders against the headboard as David walked to one of the nightstands. He took out a box of condoms and a small white bottle, and Kenna smiled. "You guys have condoms hidden all over this place, don't you?"

"He's an artist," Alexander said. He covered her body with his, and she gripped his cock as he kissed her. "You never know when inspiration will strike."

"Inspiration. Is that what he calls it?" She stroked him one-handed while David gave her a wrapper. She tore it open and looked into Alexander's eyes as she rolled it onto him with both hands. She laced her fingers behind his neck, pulled him down, and kissed him as he knelt between her legs. David climbed onto the bed and moved behind Alexander.

Kenna watched him, feeling drunker than her one glass of wine would account for, as he kissed a line along Alexander's shoulders. He put his hands on Kenna's thighs and pushed them apart, and Alexander guided himself forward. Kenna moaned and pressed one hand against the headboard, biting her lip as he pushed into her.

Alexander put his hands on her breasts, teasing her nipples with his thumbs. She rose to kiss him, and he continued to explore her body as he filled her. He was bigger than David, and he moved slower to give her time to get used to his size. She gently nibbled on his bottom lip, and she reached out with one hand to touch David as if to ensure he was still there.

David kissed her fingers, the tips and the knuckles and the palm. She heard the cap being opened on the bottom of lube, and David poured some into her hand. She reached down, her mind still focusing on Alexander's kisses and his cock filling her, and gripped David's cock. She stroked him through his condom, spreading the lube generously over the tip before she touched Alexander. This spot had always been off-limits for her, and for all of her previous lovers, but she was trembling at the idea of crossing that barrier. She touched him and Alexander grunted approvingly as she pushed one finger, then two against him. She rubbed him, feeling him tremble on top of her. She dropped her head to his shoulder and bit, and Alexander whispered both her name and David's into her hair.

David's cock nudged her hand, and she gripped it. She looked down Alexander's broad back, trying to keep from blinking as she guided him forward. She watched as David entered Alexander. Alexander's back arched, his chest brushing against her breasts as he relaxed for his lover. Kenna dropped onto the pillow and looked up into Alexander's face. His upper lip was dotted with sweat, and the tendons in his neck were standing out. He was so much more beautiful than the stone facsimile standing in her gallery.

Kenna brought her legs up, draping them over Alexander's hips. Her feet ended up on David's hips, and he rested both hands on Alexander's shoulders, the fingers tensing slightly in an impromptu massage. When David thrust, Alexander cried out and sank deeper into Kenna. David dropped one hand to Kenna's foot, massaging it and Alexander's shoulder at the same time.

When Alexander kissed Kenna again, she thrust her tongue into his mouth. The sculpture and her fantasies about it faded, replaced by the superior real thing. She wondered how she could ever have found the statue compelling, but she knew the answer. She just hadn't met Alexander yet. He was what she'd always wanted, and the statue was just a substitute until fate decided they were ready to meet.

"How's that feel, babe?" David asked.

Kenna and Alexander answered over each other, then laughed and went back to kissing each other. She could hear David leaving soft kisses on Alexander's back, and David's hips moving against Alexander's.

"You two are so beautiful together."

Alexander dropped his hand between his body and Kenna's, found her clit, and she cried out as he touched it. "Yes, there... I'm not going to last..."

"You don't have to last," Alexander whispered. "Come for us."

She came, tightening around Alexander's cock as she pressed down against him. He grunted as David thrust forward, pinning Alexander between their hips. He arched his back, twisted, and David kissed him. Their bodies rocked together, Kenna's lower body twitching with her orgasm. Soon, she felt Alexander throbbing inside her. She sat up and kissed his neck, and Alexander found a handful of her hair as he sucked David's tongue. 

Kenna went limp, her eyes closed and her face burning as she brushed the sweat from her forehead and lip. Alexander pulled out of her, and she looked down at his plump cock as he peeled the condom from it. The head was still streaked with his come, and a quick pass of his thumb cleaned it away. Kenna slid out of the way and David pushed Alexander facedown on the bed. Without Kenna to worry about, David's thrusting became more powerful, his body rigid as he pushed deep into Alexander with every thrust.

Kenna lay on her side, pillowing her head against one bent arm as she watched them. Alexander bowed his head, pushing back to meet David's thrusts until, finally, David pulled out. He took off his condom and stroked himself. He looked over at Kenna, his blue eyes wide as he ran them down her body. When he got to her crotch, he rolled his head back and came on Alexander's back.

Alexander collapsed, and David dropped to cover his body. He kissed Alexander, and Kenna slid closer and put her hands on their bodies, content to just be touching them.

She wanted to ask what was next, what they could do now that they'd taken this step. But she didn't want to break the post-orgasm silence, didn't want to make Alexander open his eyes now that they were closed. She stroked their bodies, felt their hearts beating, and fell asleep before she could think of what to ask first.

#

Kenna woke in bed with Alexander. She tried not to panic since, after all, this was a man she had technically met only twice. He was spooning her from behind, their bodies draped with the blanket. From the light coming through the window, it was late afternoon. She ran her hand over Alexander's forearm, and her touch was enough to wake him. He made a quiet noise of surprise, lifted his head from the pillow, and then gently kissed her shoulder. Kenna shivered and closed her eyes, pressing her hips against his. She could feel the flaccid length of him against her ass begin to harden at the pressure and she smiled.

"It's been a while since a woman did that," he whispered in her ear.

"Glad you decided to make an exception."

"Well. You shouldn't be the only one making concessions today." He brushed her hair back, exposing her neck so he could kiss it. Kenna squirmed and he became harder. 

"Where's David?" 

"I don't know. Probably out in his studio."

"We probably shouldn't start without him. At least until we've talked about it."

Alexander made a noise of agreement. "It would be easier if you weren't being so insistent."

"Oh, I'm insistent? You're the one poking me."

He laughed. Kenna sat up and scooted away from him, putting a respectable distance between their bodies. When she sat up, the sheet fell away from her breasts. She thought about reaching for a pillow or a shirt, but she decided that would be ridiculous. She tucked her hair behind her ears and looked down at Alexander, his midsection artfully draped by the blanket. She grinned at him.

"You still look like a statue."

"I guess that's why David chose me for his muse. I know I joked about how he tortures his models, but just in case you stick around? He's an amazing guy. He treats his models right."

Kenna thought back to the woman in the painting that predated Alexander's appearance and wondered how well the models were treated when he moved on to the next muse. 

"I'm going to see if I can find him." She slid out from under the blankets, feeling a twinge of the old anxiety as she moved across the room to find her clothes. The first thing she found was David's shirt and, on a whim, she decided to wear it instead of her blouse. She buttoned it and started to look for her pants, but the tails of the shirt stretched far enough that she would be covered for the walk from the house to the studio.

"I'll be right back."

Alexander had his hands behind his head, a portrait waiting to be painted. "Take your time."

Kenna went through the unfamiliar house in someone else's shirt, aware of her near-nudity but not concerned about it. She opened the back door and stepped outside. She paused on the back porch and let the breeze lift her hair and caress her legs. The lights were on in David's studio, and she could hear his neighbors in their own back yards. She curled her fingers in the hem of the shirt, pulling it taut over her ass so the wind wouldn't blow it up as she walked barefoot across the grass.

David was sitting on a stool at one of the tables, working on the clay model of her pose. He was wearing sweatpants and nothing else, his skin uniformly tanned. He looked up when she appeared and ran his eyes appreciatively over her body. "Did Alexander tell you to wear that?"

"Nope. My own idea. You like?"

"I'd prefer nude, but this is a reasonable alternative." He smiled, his eyes wrinkling at the corners as he went back to his model. "I wanted to fine tune this while the memory was clear in my mind."

"Are you going to rely solely on memory? Or is this something that's going to happen again?"

"I wouldn't want to presume. Today was amazing. All of it. But if you expected it to be just a one-time thing, Alexander and I will be fine with it."

Kenna appreciated the escape route, but she wasn't sure she wanted it. "What if I want it to be more than that?"

"Then Alexander and I will be very fine with it." He put down the model and stood up. "I've wanted you for years, Kenna. Not just as my model, although I'd have been willing to settle for that. Now I have you in my studio and in my bed. I've got the best of both worlds."

She couldn't think of a better opening for her biggest fear. "And what about when the statue is done? In a year or two years? How does this work, David?"

He looked genuinely confused. "I'm not sure what you mean."

"You started on the Michael Angelo eighteen months ago. That's the same time the redheaded woman stopped appearing in your paintings and Alexander showed up. I don't want to be the reason Alexander gets kicked to the curb."

David smiled and moved closer to her. He put his hands on her shoulders. "You've got it backwards. The woman before Alexander was named Maya. She was an art student who answered an ad. We never slept together. When she moved on, I was forced to find another model and I found Alexander. I put people in my work for the same reason I want them in my bed, but that doesn't mean I'm using them. I'm not going to dump Alexander if he decides to stop posing for me."

Kenna put her arms around him and he embraced her. 

Kenna dropped her hand to the front of his pants. She cupped him, working her fingers until his cock strained against the material. "How much longer are you going to be out here?"

"I'm finding it difficult to think of a reason to stay one more minute."

"Then why don't you come back inside? Alexander and I have a question we want to ask you about how we're allowed to pair up."

"Hm. I can't wait for that negotiation."

She kept her hand on his crotch as she turned to walk away. David let Kenna lead him out of the studio, reaching out to turn off the lights as he passed the door.

#

Over the next few weeks, Kenna spent more time at David's place than her own apartment. She was grateful she had Bastet as an excuse, as it would have been very easy for her to just give in and stay all night. Three days after she agreed to pose for him, David put aside his latest painting and the work area of his studio was filled with a huge block of marble. Kenna wasn't there for the delivery, so it was as if the stone had simply materialized like the obelisk in 2001.

Kenna would arrive at the studio direct from work. David loaned her a jumpsuit so she wouldn't get her work clothes dirty and she watched as he took the first steps of preparing the stone. With her safety goggles, white facemask, and earplugs, she felt like a walking condom. Occasionally she got bored, and she left David to his work when Alexander came home. They would shower together, and Alexander would wash the dust out of her hair and off her skin.

When David finished for the day, he would join them for dinner and the three of them would adjourn to the bedroom. Kenna was thrilled with the routine, because there was so much about it that was unpredictable. The thrill of not knowing which of them she would have sex with first, or if she would just watch them together, kept her on her toes. 

Their nights always ended the same; David invited her to sleep over, and she apologized and gave her cat as an excuse. Bastet was her safety net. It gave her a plausible excuse for leaving when she desperately wanted to stay. At night, cuddling with the cat in her suddenly too-big bed, she thought about where she could have been and what she could be doing. She scratched the cat's head and whispered, "You're lucky I love you so much."

The cat seemed indifferent.

David had been working on the statue for a few weeks, and the body was starting to form. He had moved on from power tools and was making minor adjustments to the shape with a chisel and hammer. Kenna waited until he moved the tools away from the stone before she announced her presence. "I hope that's not how you see me. I'm not a blockhead, am I?"

"Well, you're certainly stubborn..." He smiled. "That's actually something I wanted to discuss with you." He wiped the dust from his hands and picked up a clay model from the table. "You're going to be displaying this at your gallery, so I thought you might want a little anonymity. It goes with the basic warrior woman concept, but I wanted to get your approval before I did anything drastic."

The clay model was her bust, but her head was covered by a Spartan helmet. There was a transverse crest running down the center of the helmet, and the strip of metal that ran in front of the face helped obscure her identity. Her eyes and lips would still be visible, but unless someone was looking extremely close they would never make the connection.

"I love it."

"Excellent." He put down the model and went back to the stone. "Alexander suggested we could combine this with the Michael Angelo. Give you his cock."

Kenna shuddered. "Maybe on the next one. Or on a private copy." She was thrilled by the idea of seeing an amalgam of her and Alexander. Her body, his erection... She moved up behind David, pressing against him to kiss his neck. He tensed as her arms went around him and cupped the front of his pants. "Would you like that? Him and me combined?" She bit his earlobe and he groaned.

"You're detrimental to my work ethic."

"Sorry. I'll go." He clasped her wrists with his free hand before she could pull away and she pressed her body against his back. "Where's Alexander?"

"Work."

Kenna worked her hand into the fly of David's pants and pulled out his cock. She stroked him as she kissed his neck, her other hand pushing up under his shirt to brush his stomach with her fingers. He reached back and put his hand on her hip. "Maybe we should move this inside."

"No. Right here. You don't have to hold back." 

David sighed as she teased him with her fingers, whispering dirty things into his ear as he swelled and throbbed. She talked about what she would do if she had Alexander's cock, grinding her hips against his ass. She bit his neck and then soothed the spot with her tongue. She looked down and watched his cock slide over her palm, splitting her fingers and then circling the tip with her thumb. She saw his hand tighten around the chisel he had yet to put down, his grip telling her that he was struggling to hold back.

"Tell me when..."

"I'm close."

Kenna leaned forward, pushing him closer to the statue. David grunted, arched his back, and came. It landed on the statue, right where her stomach would eventually be. He throbbed, and Kenna watched as he decorated the stone with three thick ribbons that dripped down her effigy's waist. When he was finished, Kenna reached out and rubbed it into the marble, then wiped her hand on the chest of his shirt.

She turned him around, kissed him, and tucked his cock back into his pants.

"You're an evil woman."

"Remember that when you're paying me back tonight." She raised an eyebrow and David grinned at the possibilities. He kissed her again, his hands on her ass, and she pulled back. "Do you mind if I stick around and watch you work for a while?"

"I never do. You're my muse." He kissed her cheek and turned back to his work. 

Kenna pulled out a stool and perched on the edge to watch him tap and brush. His music today was Celtic, lively but not distracting. She had been there for an hour when she heard the door open behind her. She didn't turn, but she smiled when Alexander's hands dropped onto her shoulders. He brushed her hair back and bent down to kiss her cheek. She turned her head and pecked his lips before she slid off the stool.

"Your muses are going to go shower."

David glanced back and smiled. "You can start without me."

Kenna smiled and looped her arm around Alexander's. "We usually do. See you soon."

Alexander led her outside, and she pressed against him as they crossed the yard. He put his hand in hers, their fingers laced together.

"Good day?" he asked.

She chuckled. "They've all been good lately."

He smiled and escorted her into the house.

#

Six months passed before David suggested bringing Bastet over to spend the night. The cat was happy enough exploring the larger environment, but whined a bit when she was locked out of the bedroom. Alexander finally convinced David to give in, and the cat took its rightful place at Kenna's feet. The fact there were two other pairs of feet under the blankets with her didn't seem to phase the animal. A week later, Bastet had her own pillow at the foot of the bed. The permanence of the cat bed convinced Kenna the time had come to reveal her relationship to Roz, who took the information in stride. 

There were arguments, naturally. Occasionally there were worries about the ethical boundaries Kenna and David had crossed. They finally convinced one another that nothing in their professional relationship had changed. They'd always been friends, so taking it a step further wasn't a reason to panic. 

She began to refer to David and Alexander as her boys, partially as a joke, and they countered by calling her their girl. It stopped being a joke the first time Alexander had whispered it in her ear during sex, cupping her breast and asking how his girl liked what he was doing. After that she insisted it become a regular thing.

Fourteen months after Kenna took the first step with David, she walked out of the latest Nash Exhibition area. The movers had just left, and she cleared her throat to get her assistant's attention. "Roz? Could you come here for a second?"

Roz put down her book and crossed the gallery. Kenna escorted her into the closed-off room and gestured at the covered sculpture. "He has a new one."

"Ooh. I get a sneak preview?"

"Of course. One of the perks of working here. Well, pretty much the only perk. So enjoy it." She took the bottom of the sheet between her fingers and pulled it away. She stepped back and held her breath as she looked up at the statue and then turned to see Roz's expression.

Weaker Sex was life-size, maybe a bit taller with the helmet. She was turned slightly off center, her left leg stretching back with her weight on her bent right leg. Her right hand was reaching around her waist for the sword hanging from her left hip, and her left hand was on her left breast to cover her heart. It was a striking statue, but all Kenna could see were her too-small breasts, her slight paunch, and the hairless cleft between her legs. She forced her own insecurities to the back of her mind and kept her eyes on Roz.

"Wow. I guess he carved a cock so turnabout is fair play."

Kenna blushed. "I guess so."

Roz looked at the face again and seemed to connect the dots. "Oh, my God. Is this you?"

"No. It's... I mean, I gave him--"

"You're hot."

"Oh, shut up."

"No, seriously." Roz was looking at Kenna now with the same admiration she'd given to the statue. "Wow. I mean, I knew you were beautiful, but this..."

Kenna flicked her wrist to spread out the sheet and then tossed it over her doppelganger's head. "It's a representation. All the imperfections have been sanded away. It's not me."

Roz was smiling at her discomfort. "Whatever you say, Ms. Ross. But it's still a beautiful statue. And I doubt that he just imagined everything."

"Thanks, Roz. I'll be sure to tell him you liked it." She walked to the entrance of the gallery and saw Roz was following slowly, backing away from the sheet-draped statue so she wouldn't have to look away from it. Kenna remembered her own reaction to the Michael Angelo being similar, and everything that had followed. "Roz? Are you coming?"

"Hm? Oh. Yeah, boss." She walked out into the main gallery and Kenna chuckled. She looked at her sculpture and wondered just how adventurous she and her boys could get. She smiled to herself at the possibilities as she replaced the placard that announced David Nash's annual exhibition would be opening to the public soon with a very special centerpiece.


End file.
